Into the Wildlife
by ahelms500
Summary: Emily runs into Isaac Lahey one night in the woods while she's trying to avoid her abusive Dad. He and his friends hold a secret and Emily can't wait to find out what. *working summary*
1. Chapter 1

She knows she shouldn't be out in the woods, not only was it the middle of the night, but Beacon Hills was vastly becoming known for the numerous attacks and murders. She wasn't naïve about them, but she needed to get away from her Dad. One hard slap to her cheek and a shove down the stairs was all Emily can handle that night. Cradling her right wrist, she carefully climbs over a fallen trunk, walking farther into the woods. She doesn't think her wrist is broken but it could possibly be sprained, either way, she just has to bare it – her Dad won't be happy if she babies it.

Hearing rustling from behind, Emily stops dead in her tracks, holding still as she tries to hear what is going on. The rustling gets louder and faster as it gets closer, but just as she is getting ready to scream, it stops and the woods fall silent again.

She tries to open her open ears but all she can hear is the thumping of her heart as it tries to come down from an adrenaline rush. She pulls her wrist closer to her chest, thinking of her chances of actually fighting off something bigger than a bunny. Emily chews on her bottom lip. The tumble she took last week after not bringing in the groceries fast enough still has an effect on her ankle and, although her wrist wasn't broken now, if she has to fight, she surely would break it.

"Are you lost?"

Emily turns her attention slightly to the left to see a pale skinned, teenage boy as he steps out of the darkness of the woods and into the light of the half moon. His hair is a light brown and cut short but curls were still forming in the hair. He has on a ¾ length sleeved, blue and grey baseball shirt with jeans on. And he was tall, so tall. Emily could have sworn his eyes were a sparkling yellow, but when she blinks, they were a bright blue.

"No." she shakes her head.

"It's past midnight, what are you doing out in the woods?"

"I could ask you the same question." Emily raises an eyebrow.

"Guess you're right." The boy chuckles, "I'm Isaac." He holds his hand out.

Emily teeths her lower lip again and holds her wrist up. "Emily."

"Are you okay?"

"I uh, tripped over some weeds a while back, just landed on it weird."

Isaac seems to be looking over her intensely and Emily becomes thankful for the shadows she was hidden under. She hadn't gotten the chance to look at her cheek on her run out the door but she knew if it was the middle of the day and not night, the curious boy in front of her would be able to see the swollen knot that was now her left cheek. Emily shifts under his gaze, swallowing the lump that forms in the back of her throat.

Isaac tilts his head, a smile forming. "You go to Beacon Hills right?"

It suddenly clicks in Emily's head. Isaac. "Isaac Lahey?"

"You – you know me?"

Emily can't believe she missed it before. The curls, how tall he was, the jawline – the girls behind her in English class don't shut up about him. Most of the girls at their school usually talk about the entire group Isaac hangs out with. Scott, Jackson, Boyd, even Stiles gets a few whispers. And Danny, everybody loves Danny. The girls, Lydia and Allison, are always the talk of fashion as well as how every guy wants Lydia… and Erica, especially after her transformation from medical induced sickly teenager to a hot, blonde bombshell, the boys can't seem to get enough.

"You're really good at lacrosse." Emily comments.

"You've been to the games?" Isaac glances up from the ground, his smile making his eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

"No exactly…" Emily shakes her head. "I've walked by some of the practices on my way home."

She would go to the games if she knew people – well, she knew most of the students at the school but she wasn't a friend with any of them. Her Dad and her moved to Beacon Hills a little over a year ago and being the weird girl who always had bruises and strange excuses put a damper on making friends.

"You should come! I mean… I could use a teenager that I'm not sharing with Scott or Jackson." He shoves his hands in his front pocket and lifts his shoulders up to his ears.

"I'm sure you have plenty, you just haven't noticed." Emily teases.

Before Isaac can give a snarky comment back, a howl can be heard in the distance. His ears seem to perk up towards the howl and he takes a deep breath in. "I've got to go." He kept his focus on hearing something else. "You can make it home?"

"Yea, it's just over there." Emily points over her shoulder.

"You should go home. Stay in for the rest of the night." Isaac shrugs but keeps a firm, stern look in his eyes. Emily looks down at her wrist. "Also, I would put some ice on your wrist, helps with the swelling." He turns his back to her but throws his head over his shoulders. "The ice will help with your cheek too."

The boy is gone before Emily can look up.

She doesn't want to go back to her Dad just yet but she finds her feet shuffling back to the direction she came. The way Isaac looked at her when he suggested she stayed in for the rest of the night chills her to the bone. It didn't seem like a request, more like a plea mixed with a demand. He was worried about something – maybe the howl. Either way, Emily felt she had more of a chance dealing with slaps, punching, and shoving over sharp teeth and claws.

She turns her body back around and quickens her pace, cautious of the wood's floor.

"Is that you Emillette?" Her Dad's voice calls out from deep in the house as soon as Emily steps through the back door.

Emily curses under her breath as she clicks the door shut softly behind her. She was hoping he was passed out by now, it's been a few hours since she left, but tonight must not have been a good enough night for him.

"Yea – yea Dad. It's me." She croaks out. Her Dad was silent. Emily takes a deep breath and begins making her way to the front entrance of the kitchen.

"Where did you go?"

The softness of the voice causes Emily to freeze in her steps. Her Dad was past drinking himself to sleep; instead, he was in the stage where he acts like a lost child. Biting her lip and going against her better judgment, Emily steps away from the safety of the hallway and stairs and crosses the tiled floor into the living room.

Her Dad lies slumped in his armchair, multiple can of empty beer scatters the carpet around his feet. The flicker from the TV bounces around his five o'clock shadow, intensifying the dullness in his eyes as he rolls his neck in her direction.

"You were gone." He sadly slurs.

"Just had to get some fresh air… sorry." Her Dad's head rolls forward and bobs there. "Let's get you up to bed, okay?" Emily walks over to him, pushing a path in the beer cans as she gets closer.

Her Dad doesn't argue or lash out at her when she steps closer but it doesn't stop her hesitation as she grabs his arm with her left hand and pulls him up. Emily counts her blessings as she holds her breath and puts his arms over her shoulder, hoping the stench of alcohol and sweat doesn't cause her to gag.

"What did you do to your wrist?" Her Dad asks, reaching for it as Emily guides him to the foot of the stairs.

"It's okay." She twists away from his touch. "I fell and landed on it wrong."

"You should let me kook at it."

"It's fine Dad. I'm going to put some ice on it once we get you upstairs."

The answer seems to please him as he grabs onto the railing with his left hand and looks over to the living room. "S'room a mess." He mumbles.

"I'll clean it up, okay?"

Her Dad doesn't say anything else as they continue their way up the stairs and around the corner to his bedroom. Emily doesn't bother with anything more then pulling the bed sheets back and dropping him onto the mattress. He was asleep by the time they reached the bed, so tossing him down was simple.

She catches a glimpse of the aging photograph on his nightstand and quickly shakes her head. Her Mom left years ago and yet her Dad hadn't seemed to let her go, still wearing his wedding ring, talking about her like she was still gone on the business trip she had left them for. She knew her husband was getting worse in his drinking and anger issues but instead of taking her young daughter with her, she left Emily to fend for herself.

Emily shakes her head again and flips the photo frame with the two smiling people face down and leaves the room.

After cleaning up the beer cans and shutting the TV off, Emily steps back outside to drop the bag of cans in the garbage. Seeing the reflection of the moon off the window, she brings her hand up to her cheek, a flash of Isaac's face telling her to stay inside flies through her memory. Almost as if another reminder, a loud branch snaps in the distance, causing Emily to squeak and hustle inside, locking the door tightly behind her.

She was halfway out of the kitchen when she turns around, pulls open a drawer, and grabs two sandwich bags. Looking out of the door's window into the night, Emily shutters at what could possibly be out there. Turning her attention to the sandwich bags, she finally gets them open, pulls on the freezer door, and grabs handfuls of ice, dropping them into the bags. As soon as she was done, she shuts the freezer door and speeds out of the kitchen, wanting to get away from the creepy shadows of the night outside of the door.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day at school seems to be going pretty well for Emily, considering her wrist is still swollen and she can't quite open her jaw all the way, but she's learned how to deal with that. Pulling the red sleeve securely over her wrist, she slides it into her hoodie pocket, her version of a sling for the day, and grabs her plastic spork.

"I see you took my advice with the ice."

Emily snaps her head up from stabbing at her crusty mac and cheese to see the sparkling blue eyes of Isaac. "Works wonders." She smiles.

"How's your wrist?" He nudges his hand not holding his tray toward her hoodie pocket.

"Better then last night." She shrugs.

"That's great!" Isaac gently grins but then bites his bottom lip as if he was nervous about something. "Are you – uh – are you going to the game tonight?"

It is then that Emily notices the maroon and white LACROSSE shirt Isaac is wearing with his jeans. "I don't have anyone to go with…" Emily begins to focus hard on pushing her food around, ashamed with how lame she sounds.

"Scott and Jackson's girlfriends are going, Allison and Lydia. Do you know them?"

Emily has quite a few classes with both girls and although they were both really sweet, she's never talked to either of them outside of in-class projects. "Not very well."

"Oh," Isaac lets out with a puff of air. "Well, they're over at the table; if you'd like to come eat with me, I could introduce you." He points to a few tables down to where three guys and two girls were already sitting.

A boy with small moles speckling his jaw bone waves his arms around vividly, occasionally smacking the book in the hands of the spikey black haired boy next to him as the blond boy rolls his eyes so hard Emily is surprised they didn't roll right out. The girl sitting next to the blond boy seems unbothered by what they were discussing as she fixes a stray strand of her red hair in her mirror. The other, a dark haired, slightly pale girl leans her chin on the shoulder of the black haired boy as she reads over his shoulder.

"Are you sure I won't be interrupting anything?" Emily raises an eyebrow as she turns back to Isaac.

"What? No! They're – they like meeting new people. It'll be fun." He raises both his brows as if egging her on.

"Okay." She smiles softly, standing to her feet and slipping her book bag strap over her good arm. As she goes to grab her tray she sees it already being lifted into the air.

"I got it," Is all Isaac says before he begins leading her to the other table.

"You asked me to do research so I did research – you can't be mad at me for what it says."

"I'm not mad, it just doesn't make sense." Black haired boy shakes his head. Isaac and Emily are just stepping up to the table when the boy moves his attention from the book to the duo, a grin spreading on his face. "You must be Emily."

"Uh, yes?" Emily looks over at Isaac with a confused expression. She might know everyone at the table due to the talk and gossip around school but she doesn't have any classes with Scott, how would he know her name?

"I told them I might be bringing a friend to eat with us for lunch." A light blush spreads over Isaac's cheeks as he sits their trays down on the table.

Emily gives out a silent "Oh." And sits down.

"Where are Erica and Boyd?" Isaac asks as he sits down as well.

"Right here sweet cheeks." A perfectly manicured hand runs from one of Isaac's shoulders to the other. "Did you miss me?" The blonde haired girl slides her tray down on the other side of Isaac while a muscular, dark skinned boy sits down next to her, completing the table.

"Always." Isaac rolls his eyes. "Emily, this is the pack. Erica, Boyd, Stiles, Scott, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson." He points every one. As he says everyone's name, they give her a tiny wave, until Jackson who seems to give out a sallow grunt. Isaac narrows his eyes at the blond past Emily but Jackson just cocks his eyebrows.

"Are you coming to the game tonight?" Allison sits up straight as Scott closes the thick book and hands it back to Stiles who simply tosses it to the center of the table as he crams BBQ soaked streak fries into his mouth.

"I've never been to any of the games."

"You can go with Lydia and I. We're grabbing something to eat before going; you're more then welcome to come."

"I honestly don't know that much about lacrosse." Emily bites her lip. She feels like she was caught in a lie, especially since she told Isaac he was good at it last night. She had heard it was similar to hockey but she doesn't know much about that sport either.

"We'll teach you." Lydia snaps her mirror shut and, after dropping it into her purse, looks towards Emily with a friendly smile. "It's not too hard." She shrugs.

"If anything you could count how many times McCall and Stilinski trip over each other."

"Are you forgetting who basically won the championship last season?" Stiles snaps, stopping a handful of fries halfway to his mouth.

"Yea, the same guy who's going to get his ass kicked if he mentions it one more time." Jackson snarls, his fist clenching tight next to his tray.

"When are you two ever going to get along?" Erica pipes up.

Stiles ends Jackson and his stare down to tilt his head at Erica as if he didn't notice she had arrived. "You have a metabolism of a Greek God and yet you're going to waste your taste buds on leaves?"

As Erica snaps back a snarky comment about feeling healthy, Emily sits back in her chair. Everyone else around the table splits into their own conversation again, the multiple voices making it hard for her to keep up with any. She's use to being alone, but now she's around a tight knit group of friends, a pack as Isaac had put it, and it's a pack she wasn't in.

As if sensing her discomfort, Isaac softly nudges her, pulling her attention away from watching Stiles trying to get Scott to back him up. "They're a lot to take in." He comments. "Sorry. I should have warned you." He apologizes.

"No, I'm just not use to it." Emily shakes her head. "Your friends are… unique?" she chuckles.

Isaac grins back, nodding slightly along. His lips slide tight again as he swallows and looks down, tapping his spork a few times onto his tray. "Are you sure your wrist is all right?"

Emily immediately stops running her fingertips over the sensitive lump and looks at it. She had not only sat it outside her hoodie pocket but had also pushed the sleeve back past her wrist, exposing the blue, green, and black colored skin.

"It's just sore." She stutters out, trying to slow her heart rate down from realizing Isaac just saw how bad her wrist really was.

"I uh, heard human contact sometimes helps with pain." Emily doesn't miss the quick look Isaac gives Scott, who is now looking their way with interest. "Have you ever tried it?"

Emily shakes her head. "It's just my Dad and I at home and he's not exactly the touchy feely type." She tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

"Can't hurt to try, right?" Isaac blinks softly.

Emily has lost her words as she stares at Isaac with her jaw slightly opened. No one's cared about her well being since her Mom, yet here is Isaac, a boy she met in the middle of the night yesterday, worried about her. She closes her jaw then, holding her wrist out slowly, silently giving him permission.

Isaac curves the corner of his lips up and reaches out, his fingers lying over the skin. The whole world melts away as Emily looks up and locks eyes with Isaac. The pools of crystal blue seem to hold so much pain and hurt but the edges hold so much joy and innocence and caring. All those emotions both worry and intrigue Emily, but all she could wrap her head around was one word: Protect.

Isaac's chair is kicked so forcefully that Isaac nearly skids away from the table. He was quick to whip his head around, dropping Emily's wrist, and growling in Erica's direction. Erica simply shrugs, a wild smirk on her face as she eats a forkful of salad.

"Do you like Chinese food Emily?" Allison phrases the question as if it wasn't the first time she's asked.

"Yes." Emily nods her head while turning to Allison. "I love Chinese food."

"It's settled." Lydia bounces in her seat. "We'll meet you out front after school."

Emily can't help the smile that keeps onto her face as she picks up her plastic utensil and begins eating again. She has plans, with people, and it isn't based around a school project. The fact that those plans include the cute, curly haired, bright-eyed boy next to her just adds to the excitement.

Isaac gives her a brief grin, a blush fading from his cheeks, as he brings his juice bottle up to his lips, no longer angry with Erica for kicking his chair.

The fact that Emily's wrist was no longer hurting as much is added as a bonus.


	3. Chapter 3

Emily sits on the ledge on top of the stairs in front of the school, her book bag tucked into her side as she sits crossed legged, her camera balancing on her ankles as she snaps photos of the other students leaving school. Since she is the skinny thing that she is, she's easily able to tuck in on herself and most people pay her little or no mind in their rush to get out of their seven-hour weekday version of jail. Emily doesn't mind being ignored one bit for she loves capturing the every day interaction of others that aren't staged.

She's too busy capturing a couple of freshmen boys skateboarding down the main sidewalk to notice Lydia and Allison walk up behind her.

"Yearbook?" Allison asks.

Emily takes a deep breath in, embarrassed by being caught as she quickly flips her camera so the screen was down and looks up. "Na-no," she shakes her head, looking back down as she fiddles with her camera, the heat dismissing from her cheeks and ears upon realizing it was Lydia and Allison. "I just like capturing moments."

"You're not some stalker are you? We had to deal with one last year and he came with a whole lot of other issues." Lydia shows her annoyance with everything but an eye roll.

"No," Emily smiles at the thought of her being a stalker. "Not a stalker," she slips her arms through the straps of her book bag and jumps down from the ledge. "I promise," She throws her arms up in innocence.

"Well, for the record, they're really good pictures from what I saw. You should think about submitting them in for the yearbook." Allison looks at her from the corner of her eye as the three of them walk towards the parking lot.

Emily opens her mouth to say something but closes it, softly knitting her brows in, replacing it almost instantly with a smirk. She doesn't get compliments, just yelled insults from her Dad. It was a nice change. "Thanks."

Allison gives her a short nod.

"Isaac has a thing for you, you know." Lydia tucks her right shoulder into her cheek, a smile on her face.

"Lydia, you swore you wouldn't say anything!" Allison gapes.

"His threats don't scare me." Lydia rolls her eyes and leans forward, giving full eye contact to Emily. "Isaac's like this giant puppy. His threats consist of cold shoulders and glares that make him look like a pouting child."

Emily slows down her walking, sliding behind the two girls by a few steps. Isaac? Has a thing for her? She shakes her head, thinking she must have heard them completely wrong. She's the weird girl who wears long sleeves in the summer to hide the bruises and doesn't have friends because it was just a lot easier. Isaac's the cute, athletic, lacrosse player who has a group of friends so large they practically take over the school. There's no way she heard them right.

"How about you?" Lydia asks as the three girls walk up to Lydia's Ford Focus.

"I-uh… what?" Emily blinks multiple times in a row, trying to get her head around everything.

"You like Isaac right?"

Emily looks over the car's hood to see Allison trying hard to hide her curiosity as she thumbs around on her phone. When Emily looks down, a smile spreads over her lips as Isaac's hesitation from lunchtime plays over and over again in her mind. She'd be lying to herself if she doesn't admit she's had a small crush on Isaac for a while now, ever since she saw Scott and Allison teasing him in the hall last year…

"Oh I know that look." Allison broke Emily's train of thought.

Emily ducks her head as she yanks the back passenger's door open and jumps inside. She could hear both Lydia and Allison giggle softly as they get into the car themselves.

"Please don't tell him." Emily begs before Lydia can put the keys in the ignition.

"Sweetie, it's not my place to go telling people who likes them." Both Allison and Emily send Lydia a look, especially since she just blabbed that Isaac likes Emily. "That's different." She waves it off before she puts her car in reverse and whips out of her spot.

"I won't say anything either." Allison adds, shifting in her seat to look at Emily. "But it's really cute, the way he acts around you. Reminds me a bit of Scott when we first started dating."

"How long have you two been together?"

"Two years," Allison smiles. "He was the first person I met when I moved here."

"And the only time they're away from each other is with by bribe or threat."

"She's over exaggerating." Allison rolls her eyes before digging into her bag for something.

"I'm not." Lydia mouths shaking her head when she caught Emily's eyes in the rearview mirror.

Allison glances at her friend from the corner of her eye but doesn't say anything about it.

"What about you Lydia?" Emily asks as the car pulls up to an intersection. "How long have you been with your boyfriend?"

"Me? I'm single." Lydia pulls her shoulders back, tightening her lips as she stares straight ahead.

"Oh," Emily sits back in response. She could have sworn she saw Jackson and her holding hands down the hall just the other day and he had his arms wrapped around the back of her chair this afternoon at lunch. "I just thought you and Jackson were… um…" Emily trails off.

"We were. But now we're on break. We've both decided to leave it be for now." Lydia drums her fingers on her steering wheel.

Emily doesn't miss the short look Allison gives her from the passenger's seat that tells her she hadn't misinterpreted the couple's chemistry. Lydia hadn't misinterpreted that look either as she pops her lips. "Music?" she taps play on her car's screen and music quickly and loudly begin coming out of the speakers.

"It's just you and your Dad right?" Allison asks a few hours later as Emily and her waited in Lydia's room among their schoolwork as Lydia runs downstairs to get their food.

"Yea, since I was eight."

"It's been my Dad and I for about a year since my Mom passed away. We're a lot closer now because of it."

Emily stops writing the answer to the History question and sucks in a deep breath. "I wish my Dad and I were close."

"Your Dad and you aren't?" Allison tilts her head slightly, a curious expression on her face.

"My Dad and I get along as well as North and South Korea." Emily sends a small, tight smile, clicking her pen against her notebook.

Before Allison can ask what Emily means by that, Lydia pushes open her bedroom door, her arms piled with boxes of Chinese take out. "I think that's enough homework for the night." She says, placing the boxes on top of the chest located at the end of her bed. "We've still got to get ready."

"Get ready?" Emily asks, looking up from passing a take out box of fried rice to Allison.

"For the game! We've got to look cute for the boys don't we?" Lydia raises her brows, popping open one of the boxes and digging her chopsticks into the contents.

"This is… all I have." Emily looks down at her black and white stripped long sleeve shirt, skinny jeans, and mismatched socks. Her red hoodie and black converse lay in a pile on the other side of Lydia's room along with her book bag. It's not that she was out of fashion or didn't know anything about make up, but having a waitressing job where she some times work late at night and then having to get up before dawn to avoid her Dad didn't always leave time for Emily to really care about what she looks like.

"I've got a few things you can borrow, but we can make this work." Lydia pokes her chopsticks with a piece of chicken squashed between in Emily's direction.

Emily quickly looks down, pulling the sleeves of her shirt over her fingertips and working her bottom lip. She is all for the small make over Lydia has planned; she just hopes it doesn't involve anything where she will have to show them her arms.

Walking onto the field to the bleachers with Lydia and Allison doesn't cause as much of a stir as Emily thinks it would. Nobody shouts at her for following the girls or questions her about it. Instead, they send her stares that say the words not spoken. That is, until Lydia pats the spot next to her on the bleachers and Emily sits down.

They hadn't done too much to change Emily's appearance, a bit more make up around the eyes, curled hair, and a borrowed jacket from Lydia. It may not have been much, but Emily sure did feel different.

"Okay." Lydia claps her hands. "A quick rundown of the game before it starts."

Emily looks from the field of stretching boys to Lydia, to back out to the field so she can follow Lydia's pointing finger.

"Our goalie is Danny, number 6. He missed lunch today because he had to make up a test. We'll introduce you to him after the game. Now, in front of Danny are three defenders. Boyd, Erica's boyfriend, plays there the most, he's number 23. Defenders can only stay in the Defender's area unless they have the ball and then a midfielder has to stay there. On the other side of the field with the other team's goalie is the Attack area for us, with our three Attackers. That's Stiles' area and he's 24. They can only stay in that area. We also have three midfielders, they're able to go anywhere on the field, that's where Jackson and Scott play, numbers 11 and 37."

"What about Isaac?" Emily bounces her legs off the open bench in front of her, her eyes trying to find the tall lanky boy.

"Isaac's what I like to call a Jumper because he'll play any of the three field positions. Tonight it looks like he'll play Defender with Boyd. Number 14." Lydia points to the maroon jerseys on the field walking around in front of the goal. The two boys seem to be in a silly conversation as Boyd shakes his head and Isaac throws his head back.

"Did you three have a fun girls time this afternoon?" Erica questions, dropping down next to Emily with a bag of popcorn in her hands.

"You could have come Erica." Lydia shrugs.

Erica leans forward and looks to Lydia's right side at Allison. She raises her brows and then looks at Lydia. "No thanks."

Allison takes a deep breath in, seeming to calm herself before whipping her head towards the newcomer. "How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

"In the high hundreds would be okay with me." Erica gives Allison a straight lined smile; eyes wide as she tosses a piece of popcorn past her glossed lips.

Allison's jaw tightens before she lets out a puff of air. "I'm sorry."

"I'll add that to your count."

Allison bites her tongue as she turns her attention back out to the field. Emily sits, looking between the girl to her left and the girl to the right of Lydia. She tries to figure out what Allison could have possibly done to make Erica angry with her because as far as she could tell, Allison is a complete sweetheart. When she looks towards Lydia for an explanation, the red head holds up her open hands with a silent sigh – she doesn't want to get into it.

Turning her thought back out to the field, Emily sees the team has all come in and are standing around the bench, their helmets off. Scott is giving a concerned head tilt towards Allison but she waves him off, sending him a thumbs up instead. Stiles is jumping around, one hand jabbing into himself as the other holds up his pointer finger; "I'm first string!" is being mouthed towards an older gentleman Emily knows as Officer Stilinski. The older gentleman is both shaking and nodding his head, a goofy smile on his face. Jackson and Danny are in a deep conversation that has Jackson rolling his eyes again. Emily still wonders how his eyes have stayed in their sockets.

With a slight movement to the left, a grin creeps up on Emily's face. There, standing next to a silent Boyd are the bright blue eyes Emily can't get out of her head. Some of his dark blonde curls are already flattened against his forehead from his helmet. He looks so much taller and broader in his uniform as he stands next to Boyd and Scott. His eyes seem to be scanning the crowd until Erica gives out a loud cheer and waves her arms.

Upon spotting her in the crowd, Isaac immediately raises his gloved hand and waves. Emily smiles and gives a soft wave back.

"Lahey! If you're done waving to your girlfriend I'd like to have a team meeting before the game!" Coach Finstock's shout can be heard up the bleachers.

"Sorry Coach." Isaac ducks his head.

Shortly after half time, Emily pulls her camera out and begins taking pictures of the game and the people enjoying the sport. Thanks to Lydia and Allison answering questions, she now has a pretty good understanding of the game and is able to get in on the crowd's excitement.

She is taking a picture of Stiles on the field when she sees him tense up as he looks over to the other side of the field, past Danny and the goal. Emily quickly snaps the photo before turning her camera to the direction he is looking. There, standing far behind the goal, is a mysterious, big shoulder, bald man in a white shirt and jeans. He stands with his arms at his side but his hands are in a claw formation.

"Who's Stiles looking at?" Emily turns her attention away from her camera's screen to Lydia.

"What do you mean?" Lydia asks, turning away from the game.

"That guy behind Dan-." Emily cuts her sentence short when she turns to point to the guy but is only able to see dirt and grass. "There was a guy… Stiles looked scared to death to be seeing him."

"What did he look like?" Allison joins the conversation.

"Big. Bald. Hideously creepy looking." She tries to joke but when she sees the worried expressions of not only Lydia and Allison but of Erica too, the smile quickly vanishes. "Wait, you guys know him?"

"He's not exactly someone we want around." Lydia swallows hard.

"Should we be concerned?"

"Na." Lydia frowns, shaking her head twice before straining her neck to see across the field.

By this time, Stiles has either told the other boys or they found out themselves because instead of focusing all their attention on the field, their eyes are scanning the surrounding areas. Boyd and Isaac let two attackers and a midfielder pass them in a time frame of fifty seconds. Danny is able to hold off and catch one of the balls thrown at the goal, but the other two zips past him.

Coach is having a fit on the sideline and though Isaac keeps sending him apologetic looks, another player gets past him a second later.

"Lahey! Boyd! If you two don't start paying attention to this game, I'm going to replace one of you with Greensburg! And that's an insult on all of us!" Coach jabs his finger in the air towards the two boys.

Turning to make a comment about the boys to Erica, Emily only sees a deserted beach with a crumbled up bag of popcorn underneath. She tries to scan the crowd for her, thinking she left for the bathroom, but she can't spot the long, bouncing curls anywhere. Having have felt the tension between the girls the entire game, Emily doesn't bother bringing it up to Lydia or Allison as she flips her camera back on and begins taking pictures of the last five minutes of the game.

As the last ninety seconds tick down on the scoreboard, another mysterious looking guy appears among the sidelines. Emily immediately recognizes him as the older guy she sees with the others with around town from time to time. She pulls her camera up to capture a photo of him watching Stiles. The second her shutter clicks off, the dark haired stranger turns his head and looks directly at Emily. She jumps back slightly and takes a deep breath in, her heart racing from the guy's intense stare.

When Emily looks back up from the camera, the end of the game buzzer goes off and Lydia and Allison jump to their feet. Beacon Hills has won, even with the distracted team through the second half. Emily stands to her feet as well, her hands clapping along with the rest of the crowd as the boys line up for their 'Good game' handshakes with the other team.

With the handshakes out of the way, Scott, Stiles, Jackson, Danny, and Boyd all gather tightly together as Isaac stands just next to them, his eyes locking with Emily's. At first Emily grins back to him but she then sees the worry flooding his eyes through his helmet and her smile vanishes. Boys taps Isaac's elbow and he quickly looks away, seeing Scott, Stiles, and Jackson beginning to make their way off the field. Stepping backwards, following the others, Isaac looks back up at the bleachers, this time at Allison whom dips her head. Ripping his helmet off, he flashes a smile to Emily before turning his body and jogging after the others.

"Where are they going?" Emily asks when she notices the boys heading straight towards the parking lot and not the locker room.

"Let's go ask Danny."

Lydia has already gathered her belongings and is now waiting patiently on Emily. Quickly reaching down to grab her bag, Emily begins making her way down the bleachers, stepping aside to let Lydia and Allison lead the way to the boy in the 06 jersey.

"Hey Danny, nice game!" Allison greets as soon as the trio steps up to him.

"Thanks!" Danny smiles, his white teeth against his tan complexion lighting up his entire face.

"So uh, where did the boys go?" Lydia asks, tucking her arms around her chest as a chilly breeze picks up.

Danny gives a quick glace to Emily before speaking. "Derek was having issues with his neighbor; the boys went over there to help."

"Do they need us?" Allison digs her hands into her jacket pockets.

Danny shakes his head. "Erica's already there and plus the boys… they said they'd call if they needed you guys." Lydia and Allison both nod. "Scott said he'll let you know when they're finished but that it'll probably be a long night."

"Okay, thanks for letting us know."

Danny then turns his full attention towards Emily, allowing her a much better look at the new boy. His brown eyes are tired and sweat is piled up around his matted hairline but his smile forms dimples in his cheeks as he holds out his hand. "You must be Emily."

"Yea!" Emily stumbles; shifting her camera to her other hand before shaking Danny's out reached one.

"Sorry I missed you at lunch this afternoon. I had a test to make up." Danny rolls his eyes playfully.

"It's okay. It's nice meeting you."

"You too," Danny nods. "Isaac wanted me to let you know that he'll try and get in contact with you this weekend, but if not, he'll find you first thing on Monday."

"Oh-okay!" Emily can't help the laughter that spills from her lips as she pushes her hair over her shoulder. "Thanks."

"No problem. I better get going before all the hot water is used up." Danny throws his thumbs over his shoulder to the two metal doors.

"See you tomorrow." Allison waves her friend off.

"What trouble does a neighbor cause that Derek needs five teenage boys and Erica to help him?" Emily asks, slipping her arm through the other strap of her book bag.

"He's really vicious…deranged… totally has claws." Lydia flips everything over, thinking of the best way to describe the man to Emily.

"He loves to fight." Allison adds. "Derek likes the boys there as back up and Erica always goes to make sure things don't get out of hand."

"Oh." Emily bites her lip as they continue their way to the parking lot. She isn't sure how she feels with the new information that Isaac went to go fight with someone. She deals with enough violence and fighting at home. Allison never did say that Isaac himself fought, just that he was used as back up – for the numbers Emily supposes. Besides, Isaac didn't seem like the type that would fight. Still, as much as she likes the shy, slightly older boy, she doesn't know if she can deal with any more fighting.

"Which way do you live from here?" Lydia asks as they walk up to her car.

"I live about ten minutes away. I can just walk." Emily fiddles with her bag's straps as she bounces on her heels.

"Don't be silly, it's 9:30 at night. I can give you a ride."

"It's okay, I walk it every day. It's not exactly a bad neighborhood."

"Well, how about this: Isaac would literally kill Lydia and I both if he found out we let you walk home alone at night. So, to save both of our lives, you should let us take you home." Allison ends her plea with a large smile.

Emily looks between the two girls and the dark pathway she would be heading down on the walk. She's walked the path plenty of times late at night on her way home from work, but an uneasy feeling hung in the early March air that she just couldn't seem to shake off.

"If it's not too much trouble?" Emily pulls her shoulders up, brows raised at Lydia and Allison.

"Let's go." Lydia smiles, pushing the unlock button on her keys.


	4. Chapter 4

Emily pokes her tongue out slightly, her brows kitting together as she punches numbers into her calculator. Leaves and rain dance together in the raging storm outside the diner's windows as the thunder mixes with the jazz music playing softly from the speakers.

As Emily scratches the back of her ponytail, a small, busty, tan skinned older woman pushes open the swinging door separating the kitchen and the counter. She's carrying a steaming plate of fries and chicken fingers. She looks over at Emily and drops her shoulders, shaking her head. Grabbing a set of rolled silverware from the stock pile, the woman heads over to the stressed teen.

"Here is your plate. I'm going to take this bag and your books and you're going to go over in that corner booth and take a break." The woman hovers the plate of food over Emily's book and notebook.

"Ah, come on Miss. Neoma. I'm just doing my Math homework." Emily protests, still taking the plate from the small woman on the other side of the counter.

"You've been doing your homework for the past two hours while this storm is hiding all of our customers. You're making _my_ brain hurt." She points the napkin wrapped utensils towards Emily as the girl blushes. "Now take a thirty minute break from homework and eat some brain food."

"Can I at least take my camera?" Emily asks shyly, slipping the rolled napkin out of Miss. Neoma's hand.

"Take your camera, take that plate, and take a break."

"Thanks Miss. Neoma." Emily smiles, sliding off the bar stool the same time she pulls her camera out of her school bag.

"Shoo." Miss. Neoma waves her hands frantically in front of her, moving Emily away from her textbooks. Emily giggles softly to herself as she walks over to the beat up corner booth.

Dropping onto the soft plastic, Emily bounces over to the window and settles in. She dips a few fries in the ketchup she squirts on her plate before dusting her fingers off and flicking her camera on. She hasn't gotten the chance to look at last night's games' photos due to her chores she had to get done before work, so she is excited to see how they turned out.

After flipping through the photos of the skateboarders she took after school, Emily gets to the beginning of the photos for the game. There are a few shots of the huddle; both with the coach and some without.

The next shots were Jackson, his back to her as he pressed into the shoulder of the opposing player, the ball on the ground between them, as they waited for the referee to blow the whistle for their face off.

Emily presses through the next couple of shots of another face off as she grabs a chicken strip and begins nibbling on it, stopping her quick clicking on the series of photos of Scott pulling his lacrosse stick back and whipping it forward, scoring the second goal for the team. She makes a mental note to show Allison them on Monday, knowing the girl would like them.

The shots preceding those were of Coach Finstock's face gradually reddening as more salvia flies out of his mouth as he yells at the boys.

The flash of the number 14 slows Emily down as she wipes her greasy hand on her work apron and pulls the camera closer to her. Isaac towers over the player he is defender against as he grips tight onto his lacrosse stick. He isn't doing much besides a few steps here and there and a few glances to the other team's player but Emily still allows the smile to spread across her face. The boy may be a tall giant, but Emily doesn't think he could hurt a fly.

Almost seeming to prove her point, the next series of photos has Isaac and Boyd running together towards an opposing player with the ball. Isaac slams into his right shoulder as Boyd slams into his left, sending the player onto his back and the ball flying out of his pocket. As the play continues out of the frame, the camera has captured Isaac holding his hand out, helping the player back to his feet. They both seem to give each other a nod before going on with the game.

Erica is on her feet cheering, her curls bouncing as she jumps, throwing her arms in the air as she tosses her head back in the next photo. Boyd had grabbed the ball and was heading for the goal, scoring another one for the team due to his quick feet and ability to dodge everyone.

When the team takes a timeout, Emily had turned her camera to Lydia and Allison as they giggled over Scott and Stiles tripping over one another on their way to the sideline. Lydia has an open smile, her teeth poking out under her lips as her eyes squished under her pushed up cheeks – she wasn't even trying to hide her laughter. Allison on the other hand is hunched over, her smile hiding behind her palm in the second hand embarrassment she has for her boyfriend.

As Emily finishes up her fries she clicks through a few photos until she gets to the ones she took of Stiles. He has a carefree, yet determined and focused stance on him until about four pictures in when he's staring off to the other side of the field. Even with his facemask on and from the fifth row of bleachers the girls were sitting at, the camera still captures the frightened look Stiles has in his eyes. He glances back towards the field in the last one, which Emily can only assume he's looking toward Scott.

Emily sits back, causing the plastic under her to creak as she lays her camera down on the table. She wishes she had gotten a photo of the guy on the other side of the field, but she had been way too curious as to why Stiles had reacted that way to him. She remembers the guy's big shoulders and the way he stood with his arms at his side – almost as if he was ready to claw someone's eyes out. She didn't even know the story behind him but she knew he was up to no good.

Grabbing the last piece of chicken in one hand and her camera back in the other, Emily begins looking through the few remaining photos.

Scott's running up to Jackson, trying to talk with him but the co-captain shrugs him off and gets himself ready for a face off in the next few photos.

Getting to pictures of Isaac and Boyd, Emily immediately notices the change in the boys. They still had their backs to the goal but they seem to be protecting Danny instead of focusing on not allowing a player with a ball to pass through. Their hands were no longer gripping tight to their lacrosse sticks but rather loose, as if ready to drop them in any second.

On a photo of Isaac apologizing to Coach, there's a glare across where his eyes are. Emily doesn't think anything of it, guessing the field lights must have hit the protective bars of his facemask weird.

But then the camera's memory clicks to the photo of the dark hard, scolding guy in a simple button down V-neck and jeans, despite the chilly weather. What should have been a normal picture of him looking at Stiles was ruined due to what looks like a flash coming from where the eyes were.

Emily frowns.

She flips the camera around to see if there was a smudge on the lens but all she sees is clean glass. Rotating the camera back, she clicks it over to capture and aims it at a middle-aged couple half way across the diner. Focusing in on the greying, dark haired man, she snaps a shot.

Looking back on the photo, she can clearly see the gentleman's green eyes perfectly. She must have had the camera on a weird setting and didn't know the night before. She's had this camera for years, she knows it in and out, and she's never seen it do this before. But maybe, with age, it's going out.

"Hey Sweetie, I hate to do this to you since you still have ten minutes left to your break…" Miss. Neoma trailed away.

"Need me back on the clock?" Emily smiles as she looks up at her aging boss.

"If you don't mind, the storm let up and two cars full of teenagers just pulled in; think you can handle them?"

"There's no table I can't handle." Emily wrinkles her nose in a smile, clicking the camera back off and pushing the worry of having to possibly buy a new camera to the back of her mind.

"You're my favorite teenage waitress." Miss. Neoma says as Emily slides out of the booth.

"I'm your only teenage waitress." Emily playfully rolls her eyes as she hands her empty plate and camera over to Miss. Neoma, knowing the older woman would be careful with her precious equipment and walks over to the group of teens piling around a large table.

She knows something was off the moment she opens the door a little before midnight and the glow from the TV isn't laminating the hallway. Knowing she has about five seconds to get up the stairs to the safety of her locked bedroom door, Emily quietly jumps onto the wood. If she is quiet enough, her Dad might dismiss the door opening as one of their neighbors and she will be able to make it to her room. Forgetting she is in her work shoes and not her regular converses, she neglects the slightly extra weight and presses onto the middle of the forth, squeaky step.

The wood groans beneath her and Emily's heart jumps in her throat as her eyes enlarge in fear.

"Emillette!" Her Dad's deep voice snaps from inside the dark kitchen. "Get your no good, lazy ass in here!" When Emily doesn't move right away, he barks, "Now!"

She scrambles down, quickly tucking her book bag with her camera inside behind the coatrack, knowing it will be safe from being used against her.

She slowly makes her way down the short hall to the kitchen, trying to postpone the inevitable. She may not like when her Dad drinks his nights away on his chair but when he's not in it is when fear sets in for Emily.

Upon reaching the doorframe she stops, trying to see in but with the moon hiding behind the remaining storm clouds, there was no light.

"Well turn on the damn light. What are you stupid?"

Emily's arm shakes as she reaches to the wall and pushes the switch up. The light flickers briefly before lighting up the darkened room. Her Dad, still in his black slacks and dress shirt from work, stands, leaning against the kitchen counter. His arms tighten across his chest the same time his brown eyes darken. "Did you do all your chores this morning?"

Not trusting her voice to be anything above a whisper, Emily stiffly nods her head.

"I want spoken words!"

"Y-y-yes I-I did. Before I left for work."

"And you got all of them done?"

"Yes… I made sure."

Emily's Dad tightens his jaw in thought. Pushing himself off the counter, he motions his daughter over with his finger. "I want you to see something then."

Emily already knows what she's walking into won't be pretty but she also knows what will happen if she doesn't do what he says. Trying to keep her rigid breathing down so he Dad won't hear it, she steps over to him.

"I want you to look at this counter top." He says, stepping aside and allowing Emily easier access to it. Emily carefully looks him over for any foreign objects he might use on her but she sees none. She steps up to the counter and looks down, immediately noticing the small crumbs of bread laying on the dark grey, laminate countertop.

She freezes.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Her Dad's voice is dripping with venom and Emily senses the attack coming soon.

"Bread crumbs?" Emily's voice shakes.

"Exactly." Her Dad's teeth are clench tightly. "So if you did your chores this morning," A hand tangles itself into her ponytail and yanks her back into her Dad's chest. "Why is there bread crumps on my counter?!" He screams into Emily's ear.

"I'm sorry!" Emily cries out, trying to loosen her Dad's grip on her hair. "I made a sandwich on my way out to work. I thought I clean it all. I'm sorry! I'll clean it up now. I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" She pleads.

"You're damn right you're sorry." He growls, shoving her forward and down. Heading straight for the corner of the countertop, Emily throws her arms out and catches herself but the countertop is too smooth and slick and she slides off, the corner slicing open the skin just above her right eyebrow as she drops down. Her body slams onto the tiled floor and she can already feel blood trickle down her temple.

"I can't believe your Mother left me alone to watch a bastard like you."

Lifting her hand off the floor to wipe the blood away from her eye, Emily doesn't see her Dad's foot as it slowly pulls back and is then swiftly brought forward as he kicks Emily's stomach.

Emily's cry is swept away with all of her air as she curls into herself. Tears escape her eyes as she coughs and gags to get air back in her body.

"If you get blood on the floor, make sure you clean it up." Her Dad says before walking out of the kitchen, flipping off the light as he exits.

The fire scorching in her stomach is torture and Emily wants nothing more then to press her temple onto the cool tile floor to relief a fraction of the pain she was feeling, but she knows from experience how hard it was to get blood off the kitchen floor.

Turning onto her left side, she tightens her arms around her stomach, pressing into the sensitive flesh as she folds around the corner of the counter. She can't believe she forgot to wipe off the breadcrumbs. It was a simple mistake but a foolish one to make at her house with her Dad.

Her eyes are heavy and with each blink it becomes harder and harder for her to keep them open. It takes every fiber in her to fight against it but she knows she shouldn't fall asleep. Not here. Not on the floor in the kitchen.

But everything hurts so badly. Fire licks in her stomach at every breath and her head feels like a stick of dynamite has exploded within it. Her body is fighting; pushing; screaming at her to just let it go and give in, let herself sleep so it can rebuild itself.

She's just getting ready to give in when a pale blue light shines down in on her through the window. Opening her sunken eyes slowly, she lifts them up to see the moon peaking out from behind the clouds. She remembers the warning Isaac gave her two nights ago and that somehow frightens her of being near the kitchen door now.

Fumbling to her hands and knees, she reaches out and gently pulls herself up, grunting as she tries to get the fire at bay. With one arm still wrapped tightly around her stomach, Emily hunches over as she runs the side of her palm over the counter top, pushing the bread crumbs into her arm until she could no longer feel them on the surface anymore. She glances down to see she hasn't gotten any blood on the tile before shuffling across the floor and out of the kitchen, pushing as many thoughts about the pain out of her mind.

Passing by the coatrack, a thought runs through her brain that she should just leave her book bag there but her camera is in it and she doesn't want to give her Dad any chance of possibly breaking her only thing she holds valuable. Emily reaches around the long winter coat of her Dad's and grabs the tattered bag, tugging it free.

The bag isn't heavy but in her current state of being she doesn't even try to lift it up to her shoulders. Instead, she oulls it along side her as she slowly and painfully makes her way up the stairs to her room, using the wall as support along the way.

She drags herself and her bag into her room and sighs, relieved she has made it. Releasing the bag's handle from her grip, she lets it drop to the floor as she uses her whole body to press the door shut, securely locking it in place.

Her head is pounding and she doesn't waste any time getting to her bed, dropping down into the layers of sheets and pillows. Not caring if she gets blood all over her pillow, Emily buries her head into the cool fabric.

She's safe from anymore of her Dad's outburst, at least for now with the locked door between them. She relaxes, feeling her entire body giving in to the sleep it's been fighting for. The last thing Emily remembers is the photo of Isaac with the glare across his eyes flashing across her memory before she slips into darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Emily grimaces as she presses liquid foundation on and around the scabbed over gash above her right eyebrow. The injury isn't pretty, but it's better then the pile of dried up blood she woke up to early Sunday evening. With the last of the make up on her finger applied, she pulls her body back away from the sink and drops her shoulders.

She can do this. This is no different from any other time she's gone to school with the aftermath of battle wounds from her Dad. This one was just a little harder to hide.

Teething her bottom lip, she can't remove her eyes from the ugly mount she sees before her. She lifts her hand up to pull out a bobby pin in the side of her hair and gently sweeps the pieces across her forehead, covering up the scab with her new bangs.

Emily leans down to drop the bottle of foundation and bobby pin into her open book bag, not bothering to quiet her painful wince. With a shaking hand wrapped around the porcelain sink, she pulls herself up again, bringing her other hand to join it's partner as she lets the burning ache pass over.

The fire in her stomach's muscles doesn't completely dissipate but she's able to step back from the bathroom sink and stand on her own without the worry of toppling over after a minute or so. With a slow, deep breath, Emily curls her fingers around the hem of her shirt and pulls the fabric up around her breasts.

Looking at her stomach from above was bad enough, but seeing it in the speckled reflection of the girl's bathroom mirror was grisly. The black and blue blotch covered most of her left side, the main impact having had been just under her ribs.

Bunching her shirt all in her left hand, she slides her right hand down towards the impact sight. In her mind she wants to press into it to make sure nothing is sticking out, but the fear of the pain over powers her yearning and she simply dances her fingers over the damage.

She catches sight of her right wrist, now a fading yellow color, and shifts away the forming smile. It hasn't really hurt since that past Friday at lunch when Isaac touched it, but right now Emily doesn't know what she thinks of him and his friends. She likes them, and everyone, with the exception of Jackson, were nice and friendly towards her, but if what Danny said was true and the boys went to fight with someone, she doesn't know if she wants the added violence.

Emily gasps, quickly tugging her shirt down when the door to the restroom pushs opened. She keeps her eyes forward, adding to the act that she's fixing her shirt as three senior girls filter in. They all seem to raise their brows at one another at the sight of Emily at the sink.

Two of the girls go into stalls as the third walks up to the far sink and begins fluffing her bleach blonde hair. She turns her head and sends a fake smile towards Emily before pulling lip gloss out of her bag and turning her attention back to her own reflection.

Emily mentally preps herself for the pain she's going to feel in the next few seconds and before she talks herself out of it, she quickly bends down, gathers up her jacket and book bag and snaps upright. She swallows down the sob of pain and rushes out of the restroom. She knows what she looks like; she doesn't need the confirmation of an upperclassman to sneer at it.

Hugging her unzipped bag to her chest, Emily dodges the other students as they begin filling the halls before school. If she gets to her locker fast enough, she can get out of the halls and hopefully finish the last few math problems left on her homework before class starts. She ducks her head as she approaches a group of boys talking and slides her way around them to her locker. Skimming the lock's dial, she tugs the metal door open.

As the boys burst out in hoots and howlers, Emily winces. She wants nothing more then to walk out the school's front doors and curl up somewhere – the be away from people, but she knows that won't accomplish anything. Besides, she has nowhere to go, it's been raining since late last night and her house is the last place she wants to be. A shiver runs down her spine at the thought of her home and she closes her eyes, shaking her head to vanish the memory of the other night. She just wants to forget.

"I like your bangs."

At the sudden voice so close to her, Emily snaps her eyes open with a deep breath. Her heart slides back down her throat when she sees Isaac's concerned expression on the other side of her locker's door as he holds his hands up in innocence.

"I'm - I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." He stampers.

"No, it's okay," Emily shakes her head. She lifts her hand up to run it through her hair but then remembers her forehead and throws her hand up. "Just a bit jumpy I guess." She turns her attention into the contents of her locker.

"Sorry I didn't get ahold of you this weekend, it was… pretty busy. But uh… how was yours?" Isaac scratches at the back of his neck.

The gesture was cute and Emily wishes she could smile at him but she can't bring herself to think about anything beside the desire to hide away. "It was okay." She answers back with a small shrug of her shoulders.

Upon receiving her answer, Isaac pushes himself off from leaning against the lockers, his face filling with worry and concern as he leans slightly closer to her. "Is everything alright? Did something happen?"

Emily freezes slightly upon reaching into her locker for a notebook. There's no way he could be talking about her Dad. She's been good at hiding it for eight years, there's no way she's slipping up now. So instead of answering him, she asks him a question of her own. "Did you go to a fight after the game Friday?"

"Did I what?" Isaac takes a small step back, his face scrunched in confusion.

"Go to a fight? Danny said you guys and Erica went over to Derek's to fight a neighbor of his? Lydia and Allison even backed it up."

"That's… not exactly what happened."

"So what exactly did happen?" Emily's voice is cold, but if she wanted an answer that still beats around the bush, she wouldn't have even asked the question.

Isaac looks like he's having an internal battle within himself before he scrunches his face up. "I can't tell you."

She doesn't know what hurts more: the fact that he just admitted to going to a fight, or the fact that he's not telling her the truth.

"I should go." Emily mumbles, her heart crushed with sadness. She had hoped all weekend that it wasn't true, that Danny had misheard the information, but it wasn't.

"Wait, Emily," Isaac reaches out but freezes, shaking his head again slowly as she closes her locker door. "That's not the whole story."

"It-." Emily swallows the large lump in her throat. "I can't be around people who result to violence to solve their issues. I've seen what it does."

Isaac looks at her as if he wants to say something, but instead he adverts his eyes down to the floor beside her as he begins running his thumb over his fingers. "What if violence is the only answer left to guarantee those you care about stay safe?"

He slowly raises his eyes back up to Emily but she's shaking her head, her bottom lip quivering slightly. "I've got to get to class." Her voice cracks.

Turning on her heels, she quickly hurries off, holding her breath tightly so the tears don't fall.

It's not until Emily is in the middle of the locker room three classes later and is bending down to take her shoes of does a painful stab race through her mid-drift and halts her actions. She bites the inside of her lip, wincing softly as she slowly lowers herself down onto the bench. There is no way she's going to make thirty-five minutes of being completely active without curling up in the fetal position.

"Are you okay?" Erica was suddenly leaning against the beaten up grey lockers. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail and instead of her usual tight fitted shirt and skinny jeans; she now wears an old pair of faded shorts and a white BEACON HILLS PHYSICAL EDUCATION shirt.

Emily also has this class with Stiles … and Isaac. She knows she can't avoid them forever, but if she can get away with a few classes here and there, she'll take it.

"Cramps," Emily purses her lips, looking up. "I'll probably skip out on gym today."

"Are you sure it's just cramps?" Erica takes a step towards Emily. "And not something else?" The look on her face clearly tells Emily she knows she's lying, but she doesn't push her.

"Yea," Emily says, even though she shakes her head. "I should go tell Coach Guise I'm sitting out." She gathers all of her things, and for the second time that day, rushes out of the room with her belongings piled in her arms.

She finds the Coach of the boy's basketball team already in the gym. His white polo shirt tucked around his no longer athletic form and into his grey sweatpants. A grey whistle clicks against the clipboard in his hands as he flips through papers.

"Coach Guise." Emily quietly states as she walks up to him.

"Yes?" He doesn't bother looking up from his sheet on his clipboard.

"Well, you see, I'm kind of – it's that time of the month for me, and my craps… they're really-." She stops her rambling as soon as Coach Guise holds up his hand.

"I really don't want to hear about your monthly issues Miss. Hatford. I get enough of that at home between my wife and three daughters. If you would like to take a half credit day and sit on the bleachers, just tell me."

"I would like to take a half credit day."

"Alright. I'll mark you down, but I want to see you doing homework and not taking a nap when I look up there." He points a sausage finger at Emily over his clipboard.

"Of course." Emily nods. She scurries off to the bleachers, climbing halfway up and getting comfortable.

She had left her math items back in her school locker and she didn't have anything else to do, so she simply pulls a notebook out and sits quietly, doodling onto the pages whenever Coach Guise looks her way. The class was doing tag group suicide runs and mountains climbs, so she is extremely glad she chose to sit out because there was no way she could have handled that without causing at least some concern from people.

Emily catches Isaac's eyes more then once as she watches her class run the course. She usually glances away or swiftly drops her head down to her notebook, but around the fourth or fifth time, something in her makes her hold the gaze.

Isaac is staring at her from across the sidelines of the far end court and although the classmates around him are red faced and heaving, Isaac stands as if in line at the grocery store, his grey BEACON HILLS P.E. shirt baring no sweat stains.

It felt as if he was studying her, really looking deep and trying to figure her out, looking for a way to talk with her. Emily holds a blank, emotionless face as she stares back, trying to give him just as an equal of a look. The hold lasts for a minute or so until the boy behind Isaac gives him a shove and points, indicating it's his turn to go.

After that, Emily avoids the teen's eyes. She does catch Stiles', who enlarges them and nudges them over to Isaac's direction, but Emily shakes her head and looks away.

When the Coach finally blows his whistle, sending the class back to the locker rooms to change in five minutes, Emily let's out a loud sigh. She's only two and a half hours into the school day and her head is already beginning to throb. If it was from the injury on her forehead or the inner battle she's fighting with herself over Isaac, she doesn't know. What she does know if that she still has five hours divided into six classes left, and she would still rather ignore the world.

With a minute left until the bell rings, Emily shoves her notebook back into her book bag, zips it up, and begins her descent down the bleachers.

Walking into her food science class, she looks up to the board to see who her partner is for the brownie experiment they've been working on since last Thursday and drops her shoulders. Boyd. She's not doing very well with avoiding these people.

Getting right to it, Emily deposits her bags on the table and gets to her assigned station, setting to work. Boyd walks in a minute later, drops his bag on the same table, and comes straight over. They compare their receipts and decide on Boyd's.

It's not until the brownies are in the oven and they're cleaning up does Emily finally ask, "You're not going to try and persuade me to talk to Isaac?" She's already had Stiles talking behind her constantly in History and Allison probably would have tried if Emily hadn't quickly dodged down a side hallway first.

"Do you want me to?" Boyd asks back as he dunks a chocolate covered spoon into the sink.

"Not really, no." Emily replies as she runs the towel around the inside of the green bowl.

Boyd shrugs. "It's not my place."

He hands her the wooden spoon. "Thanks." She says softly as she begins drying the utensils off. He gives her a small smile, as it saying 'no problem" and drops three measuring cups into the water.

They stay quiet again for the rest of class, cutting the brownies up and placing them into to go boxes – Boyd taking a mess majority of them, which was fine with Emily.

Being a library aid instead of taking a free period allows Emily to relax with a bit of a distraction, if only for forty-five minutes. Balancing a small stack of books in her hands, she walks deeper into the shelves. She starts humming to herself as she finds the exact spot the top books goes in.

"Can I ask you a question?" Someone asks from the end of the shelf.

"Just give me one second," Emily finds the spot she's looking for and slides the book into place. "What cane I help you with?" she asks as she turns her attention down the aisle. Her friendly smile drops when she sees the black haired, tanned skinned boy leaning against the wood.

"Don't you have class?" Emily asks Scott as she moves down the aisle away from him.

"This is my free period actually," Scott shrugs his shoulders as he slowly follows her.

"Oh, well, the free period study tables are over by the Non-Fiction section." Emily nudges her head over her right shoulder.

"Thanks, but that's not my question."

"If you've come here to persuade me to talk to Isaac, you all really need to take a lesson from Boyd." Emily stops in front of a new section of books and begins searching for the top book's location.

"Yea, I totally will," Scott nods his head. "But I want you to hear me out first because Isaac – we didn't do what you think we did."

"The rest of you keep saying that, but Isaac openly admitted that's what happened." Emily rolls her eyes softly, still searching for the book's placement. She loves the dedication Isaac's friends seem to have for him, and deep down, she wishes she had people who had her back too, but this was all beginning to annoy her.

"We did go to Derek's to help him fight, but it was more for numbers – to freak out his neighbor more then anything. Isaac's not a fighter, not without reason. He's usually the last one to fight but if any of us are in trouble, he's the first one there. He does what he feels is right, and some times that's just to help us out."

"Okay, so he didn't fight Friday night. But you guys went looking for one, and that's almost just as worst."

"The only person who goes looking for fights is Jackson and that's why the rest of us are there – to hopefully talk him out of it."

"Why are you so hell bent on me talking to Isaac?" Emily drops her shoulders, her brows raised in annoyance.

"We're all really close. Isaac said it perfectly when we met you – we're a pack. You're the first girl that's really caught Isaac's eye; and when he came up to us Friday morning and said he's going to try and bring someone to the lunch table – you can laugh but, the rest of us were pretty excited about it too. It may not seem like it, but we care about each other's happiness as much as our own."

Emily pulls the right side of her bottom lip between her teeth and slows all of her movements. Her finger plays with the plastic covering over the book on the top of her stack as she avoids looking to her left at Scott. Maybe she jumped to conclusions about Isaac and him fighting, but she doesn't know him all that well. Shouldn't she at least give him a chance?

"I just wanted you to know that about Isaac and about us; we're not all bad." Emily kept her eyes avoided. "And I also wanted to let you know that there'll be a seat for you at the lunch table is you want it."

Emily looks up to him to tell him she'll think about it but the tan boy is already gone. Whipping her head around trying to find him, she gives up only after a few glances. He said what he had wanted to say and he left.

As everything swirls around in her head, Emily sits the books down on the shelf and leans lightly against it. Not everyone is her Dad she knows that, but it doesn't mean she doesn't have trust issues. But Isaac, and the rest of the group are different, they've already proved that today. So why is she locking the steel door so tightly on them this soon?

Maybe she's scared of being let down. She's had so much disappointment in her life already, that adding more to it will probably break her at the seams. But things were different; she can feel it as if the rest of her already knows. She doesn't understand how she knows, but maybe, instead of Isaac always protecting those he cares about, he needs protection of his own.

She catches sight of the clock on the wall and turns, grabbing the stack of books and getting back to work. She knows what she's finally going to do; she just hopes her fears don't talk her out of it before she gets the chance.

The grey tray wobbles in her hands as Emily steps out of the lunch line. She scans the noisy room filled with juniors and seniors already eating and chatting away with one another. Her usual far corner table is unoccupied but her eyes jump right over it to the large round table three over.

Stiles is buried into a book, his lunch tray pushed in front of him as a pencil scurries over a notebook. He turns to look at Lydia to his right, and after she takes a bite of her turkey wrap, she points into his book, moving her finger around the page. Stiles nods along with the movement and begins scribbling again. Allison comments and points to something else in the book. Stiles looks up towards it again, reads, and then writes some more.

Scott is in conversation with Jackson and Danny across the table. There are a lot of eye burrows from both Jackson and Scott as Danny draws something in the air in front of himself. Scott even turns to Boyd at one point but the large teen shrugs his shoulders, his back to Emily so she can't see his facial expression.

Erica walks up to the table then, sliding into the seat next to Boyd with grace at the same time as she kisses his cheek and steals a little smokie off his tray.

Isaac's not at the table yet, but Emily still begins walking towards it. She's been a bit stand offish to most of the members filling up the table, and even though Scott invited her, it doesn't mean the other will be okay with it. She wishes she had something to fiddle with as she inches closer but she settles on hugging the rim of her tray, her knuckles turning white from the grip.

"Hi Emily!" Allison chirps, a large smile on her face.

"I see you're feeling better." Erica turns her head to Emily. "You can sit here," she pushes the chair out enough so Emily can step up to the table.

"You guys don't hate me?"

"Na, a mass pit of confusion, we've all been there," Stile waves his free hand about.

"Sorry about that, it was my choice of words that caused the disarrangement." Danny sends Emily an apologetic smile.

"Disarr-what? Why can't you just say confusion?" Stile whips his head up.

Lydia snaps her fingers in front of Stiles' eyes. "I did not spend my entire Sunday tutoring you in Chemistry for you to not get the actual assignment done."

Stiles sends her a quick look of annoyance before getting back to his assignment.

"Emily?" Isaac's voice questions as he walks up to the table with his tray. "Are you eating lunch with us?"

"If – if that's okay with you." Emily tucks herself into her shoulder slightly, afraid of his rejection.

"Yea!" Isaac's entire face lit up with the quick nods he gives. "Of course!"

Emily gives him a large smile and she sits down with him the same time Boyd pulls the to go box from his book bag and drops them in the center of the table. "Emily and I made these in food class."

"Brownies!" Scott cheered as he launches himself to the container.

She may not know what exactly happened on Friday night, but she wants to give Isaac – and his friends – a chance she believes they deserve.


	6. Chapter 6

"I'll meet you guys in class." Allison waves to Isaac and Emily before linking hands with Scott and walking away from the tray drop off window.

"I'm not giving an excuse if you're late!" Isaac calls out as he sits his tray down.

"Just save me a seat!" Allison smiles over her shoulder before facing forward again as Scott and her disappear out of the cafeteria.

"I need to run to my locker. Please save me a seat that's not next to that asthmatic wannabe debate champion." Jackson quickly dumps his tray's contents into the trash and then tosses the tray onto the window.

"Larry Witz?" Emily asks as she dumps her tray.

"Sure," Jackson's brows both raise high. "If that's his name. I just don't want a seat by him, he argues with everything I say."

Emily is slightly confused because – isn't that what debate is all about? Before she can voice her thought though, Jackson is already out the cafeteria door with Lydia and Danny.

"See you in English, Emily. And you after school, Isaac." Stiles says without looking up from his chemistry book. He turns to take a step to the left when Isaac grabs his shoulders and turns him around ninety degrees. "Thanks."

"I got him." Erica smiles, slipping one arm around the hook of Stiles' right elbow while yanking the book out of his hands with her other hand.

"Hey!" Stiles' brown eyes shoot up franticly.

"Relax. I'm helping you get to math class in one piece." Erica shakes her head, tucking the textbook under her free arm. Boyd gives Isaac and Emily a small wave before following Stiles and Erica out.

"So… to physics?" Isaac raises his shoulders with the question.

"Lead the way." Emily throws her right arm out and swings it out to her side.

They walk in silence for a few passing classrooms side by side until they pass by the main office and Isaac speaks up. "Erica said you weren't feeling good back in P.E. Are you okay now?"

"Oh yea," Emily frowns slightly, hooking her thumbs around her shoulder straps. "I just had some…" she searches for a word that wouldn't scare Isaac off.

"Cramps?"

Emily whips her head towards Isaac, her face mixed with shock and confusion because this boy next to her just said the word 'cramps' and even though she doesn't hang around with guys a lot, she does know they don't like talking about girl's problems.

Isaac's ears slowly turn pink as he avoids Emily's eyes. "Yea…Erica's pretty blunt on those things. Lydia can be too." He says after a beat.

Emily tries to hide her chuckle, imagining Isaac listening quietly to Erica complain openly about her period. "At least it's not a sibling right?" At the sight of Isaac sucking in his bottom lip and holding it between his teeth, Emily immediately begins regretting her last joke. "Sorry if I mentioned a sensitive subject."

"Oh no!" Isaac's eyes got big as he shakes his head. "My brother, Camden, he uh, he past away a few years ago."

"I'm so sorry!" Emily cries out, stopping in her tracks. Isaac takes two more steps forwards before realizing she stopped and steps back.

Instead of seeing a sad, depressing look on Isaac's face like she suspects, Emily sees a small smile, as well as a distant twinkle in his eyes. "You're okay. I just don't talk about him a lot," he shrugs. "But I was picturing him actually sitting me down and telling me all about his period cramps like Erica does."

Emily stays still for a few seconds, her eyes scanning over Isaac's face as a smile slowly creeps onto hers. "Bet that's a funny site."

"A little bit." Isaac smirks as they walk into their physics' room.

Emily immediately went to her second row table seat near the window. She usually sat next to a different person almost every class, but today Isaac silently hovers in the aisle next to the empty seat. "Is it okay if I sit here?" he asks as he points to the chair.

"Of course." Emily nods up at him.

Isaac grins back at her, sliding his book bag off his shoulders and dropping down into the seat. Once situated, he pulls out a notebook and folder from his bag and pushes them onto the table behind them, placing them in front of the vacant seats.

Jackson comes in a minute later, quickly making his way to one of the saved seats, but not before sending silted eyes towards Larry Witz on his way past him.

"He really doesn't like Larry does he?" Emily notes.

"Jackson doesn't like anyone who disagrees with him, no."

"I don't like when people tell me what to do, Lahey. You know the difference between that don't you?" Jackson cocks his right eyebrow as he slips into the chair behind Emily.

Emily swears she hears a growl from Isaac but it's drowned out by the shrill of the bell. As the bell finishes it's last ring, Allison gracefully slips into the room, sending an innocent smile to Mr. Belt, who waves her off as he stands from his desk chair.

"Thanks Isaac." She whispers as she sits down the same time Isaac grabs his folder from her spot.

"You're lucky." He whispers back.

"Alright remember, test tomorrow," Mr. Belt starts as the bell rang. "10% of your grade!" he shouts over it. "Which means if you fail, it'll drop you down an entire letter grade!" he says over the hustle and bustle of kids getting their things together.

"Hey Emily, save me a seat. I'll be there on time." Allison sends a teasing, goofy smile to Isaac as she gathers her things and flees the room.

"Looks like you're in on her game now." Jackson mentions before he too stands to his feet and leaves.

"What are you talking about?" Emily snaps her attention up from zipping up her book bag. "What's he talking about?" She turns back to Isaac, trying to figure it out.

"Allison and Scott always meet up between classes and love to push the limit as to when they get to the next one. Allison always asks one of us to 'save her a seat' so she can easily slip in." Isaac informs as he stands up.

"Glad to know I'm wanted." Emily purses her lips with a nod. She carefully pulls her book bag strap over her shoulder before standing up, trying to minimize the pain in her stomach. She hasn't had the chance to check on it since this morning, but find a completely empty bathroom while school was in session is thin.

"Hey uh, what are you doing after school today?"

"Probably going home and studying for that test Mr. Belt kept mentioning will be 10% of our grade." Emily shrugs as they walk out of the classroom.

"Well, you're more then welcome to come study with us. We always go over to our – uh, friend, Derek's loft after school to hang out and do homework…Boyd sometimes cooks? But uh, Allison, Jackson, and I will be studying for the test and you can come and study with us if-if you want." Isaac says bashfully as the two of them dodge people in the halls.

"Yea!" Emily's quick to nod her head. "I'd love to."

"Really?" Isaac's eyes enlarge as he stares at Emily in disbelief. "Awesome!" he shakes his head to rid his shock. "Um Stiles, he usually gives Boyd and I a ride to Derek's after practice but I'm sure he wouldn't mind swinging by and picking you up."

The sudden thought of a car full of boys pulling up to her house with her Dad possibly home was a nightmare and a shutter ripples through her body, the pain in her stomach lighting up again. "Actually, why don't I just meet you guys in the back parking lot after you're done? I've got a report to do for one of my classes and I need to go to the library anyway."

"Are you sure? Practice usually last until six."

"I'm in with the librarian." Emily tries to make a joke but then realizes how lame it actually sounds and blushes. "I just mean… she'll let me hang out there until she leaves." She scuffs her foot on the white tile when they come to a fork in the halls.

"I'll meet you in the back entrance of the school closest to the practice field at six?"

"I'll be there." Emily smiles when she catches sight of Isaac's blue eyes smiling down at her.

"Awesome. See you after school." He nods. "I better go meet Erica for our free period."

Emily shivers slightly as she pulls the sleeves of her jacket around her fingertips. The rain was still trickling down, but not as bad as it had been before school so she wasn't going to complain about standing in it for a little bit.

As she scans the horizon, Emily catches sight of a spider web in the corner of a pillar. She smiles at it, admiring the way the rain forms a rainbow on the silk. Afraid it might get ruined; she keeps her eyes on it. As she slips her left strap off her shoulder and unzips her book bag. She only has to dig slightly before her fingers trace the focusing ring and she gently tugs it out. Zipping her bag back up, she slips her arms through the strap again before walking closer to the web.

Emily flicks her camera on and quickly begins capturing pictures of the weaving from different angles and focuses. That is, until she sees the garden spider slowly make it's way back to the center of the web. She jumps back slightly when it comes into the focus of her lens and pulls the camera away from her eye to look at the web – still a few feet away.

A car horn beeps twice from her left and she looks over. Stiles is waving from the front seat as the passenger's door opens and Boyd steps out, Isaac climbing out of the back a step behind him. Emily smiles as she slides her camera under her jacket to shield it from the weather, careful to keep it on the top half of her body and away from her stomach.

Isaac begins making his way up to her and meets her halfway. "You get your report done?" He asks when they begin walking back to the jeep.

"Got more then I was planning on doing, so I'm ahead of the game now."

"I saw you taking photos of the spider web and at the game Friday night. Do you still have those?"

"They're still on my camera," Emily lifts the camera slightly in her jacket. "You can look at them later if you want." She shrugs as they stop by the open passenger's door.

"We could look at them at Derek's after studying?" Isaac looks down at her.

"If you want." Emily nods, lifting her eyes up to him.

"You two have seriously got to stop looking at each other like that." Stiles' voice rings through the chilled air. Emily turns to him as he throws an arm over the steering wheel. "Climb on in. Roscoe here is trying to warm up," He pats and rubs the dashboard.

"Roscoe?" Emily questions.

"It's the name of his jeep." Boyd comments, keeping his arms folded as he leans against the hinge of the door.

"If Derek can name his car without question then so can I," Stiles jabs his finger in Boyd's direction.

"Into Roscoe I go." Emily raises her brows and pulls her lips to the side and steps closer to the car.

Stiles leads the group into the building and pushes buttons on the buzzer without looking and as soon as the person at the other ends picks up, he replies with, "Hey, it's me," and there's a click heard on the door as it unlocks.

Emily wobbles slightly after them as they head to the elevator. Getting into the jeep had been easier then it had been getting out. Crawling in, she was able to use her right arm to lift herself up and slide over, but when she had to crawl out the passenger's side because she driver's seat was jammed, she ended up hitting her left side on the chair and then didn't land as gracefully as she had hoped to on the ground. Her stomach felt as if it were a new injury and not a day and a half old anymore. She keeps telling the boys she was fine, but Isaac insists on walking behind her, the hovering of his palm on her back was easily felt but Emily doesn't say anything about it. Though she wasn't use to being looked after, a small part of her was relaxing in it.

"So who exactly is Derek?" Emily asks as the elevator's door slide shut. "You all have mentioned him quite a few times but I've never been told exactly who he is."

"He's the only one in the pack not in high school." Stiles says simply.

Emily licks her lips and doesn't ask the other questions she has. She could tell that Derek was a subject she would just have to figure out on her own. She looks over at Isaac whose grip on the elevator's bar has his knuckles a bright white. As she turns her head slightly to look at him to see if he's okay, his eyes were staring straight ahead, an emotionless expression on his face. He seems to notice Emily looking at him, in which case he looks down and gives her a weak smile. The elevator dings and she turns around again.

"Be warned," Isaac leans close to Emily's left ear as the doors squeak open and Stiles and Boyd step out. "Derek sometimes isn't the friendliest person to be around." He says as the two step out of the elevator and walk down the hall after the other two.

Boyd snorts from in front of Emily. "That's an understatement," He says, keeping his eyes forward as they reach the door.

Stiles lifts his hand to slide the door over when it's yanked opened and green eyes are narrowed at Stiles. "Where's your key?"

"On my dresser next to my chapstick I forgot this morning when I was running late because I was up all night doing research." Stiles claps his hands, wobbling on the back of his heels.

"I didn't give you a key for you to put it on your dresser, Stiles." The guy's voice full of irritation.

"I'll put it on my keys when I get home. Can we come in now?"

The guy doesn't budge as he turns his attention to Emily and scales his eyes up and down her. Feeling uncomfortable under his judgmental stare, she takes a step back, right into Isaac's hovering hand. He flattens his palm against the small of her back and Emily quickly feels a rush of relief flood through her.

"Emily," Isaac glances down at her. "This is Derek. Derek, this is Emily," he looks back up to Derek. "She's a friend of mine. She's here to study, and hang out with us tonight?" His last part seems to be a question rather then a statement and Emily begins to wonder if she was to be invited or not.

"Yea, okay," Derek opens the door more so Stiles and Boyd can walk through. "Can I talk to you a moment?"

"If it's not okay that I'm here, I can always walk home." Emily turns back towards Isaac, ready to leave.

"No, you're fine," Isaac laughs softly as he gently places his right hand on her shoulder. "Lydia and Allison are already in the living room. I'm sure they'll be glad to see you."

"Are you sure?" Emily looks up at him doubtfully.

"Promise." Isaac says as he leads her into the loft and Derek slides the door closed.

The windows across the door cast an almost creepy shadow over a wooden table with a solo chair on the raised platform. To the right of that is a small bookshelf of some sort and on the other side of that was a brightly lit area with a long grey couch where Erica, Danny, Lydia, and Allison were already either looking through books or typing away on a laptop. Emily heads over there.

"Hey, Isaac didn't tell us you were coming!" Danny says, looking up from his computer when Emily drops her book bag on the side of the couch.

"He didn't tell you at practice?" She asks as she sits down on the very edge of the couch.

"Na, I was in goalie all day. Coach didn't let me out for any of it." He says.

"How far are you on your history paper?" Allison asks as she looks up from a thick book in her lap and tucks a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear.

"Almost finished. I worked on it while I waited on the boys to get done with practice."

"Can I see your sources?" Allison all but jumps up in her seat. "I won't take anything you've written, but I can't seem to find any reliable sources for the second question."

"Oh that's fine." Emily scoots around the corner of the couch and tugs her book bag up onto the cushions. She shifts around in her papers for a moment before she pulls out her sources' paper and hands it over to Allison.

As they begin discussing the history assignment, Emily can't help but sneak glances across the large room to the kitchen counter where Derek and Isaac both lean against the grey granite top. Derek, no matter how many times she looks over there, keeps a facial expression of someone who was really ticked off. While Isaac on the other hand, looks like someone who might be going up a creak without a paddle. His shoulders drop lower and lower and his face looks so defeated but at the same time trying not to lose.

"Is Isaac in trouble?" Emily finally asks after she sees Isaac rub his face.

"No, Derek's just a hard ass." Erica jeers as she sneaks a look up from her copy of Hamlet and smirks in Derek's direction.

Derek's muscles seem to tighten as he glares at Erica. Emily furrows her brows and looks between the two of them. How Derek could have possibly heard that is beyond Emily's mind because even with perfect hearing she doesn't think anyone would hear that from that far away.

Boyd begins descending down the metal spiral staircase from across the room and comes and joins them in the living room area. Instead of sitting on the open cushions of the couch, he sits on the floor in front of Erica's legs and immediately begins shifting through his bag. When he leans back with a notebook in his hands, Erica leans forward and wraps her arms gently around his neck, kissing the top of his head softly. Boyd lifts her hand and kisses her fingertips.

As soon as Boyd seems to be comfortable and the couple both lean back, another set of feet in oversized sweats begin descending the stairs and Stiles appears a few steps later, now in a shirt and sweats, his practice bag's handle in his hands. "Let's get to 'spatior'!" he cheers as he walks over to the group.

"You just said, 'Let's get to pacing'." Lydia says as she flips a page of her book.

"I said what?" Stiles asks as he plops down on the couch next to Erica.

"To put it in another word: stalking. Studying in Latin is 'studebat'." She looks up and smiles all knowingly at Stiles.

"Really? God dammit!" Stiles begins digging frantically in his bag for something.

"Where's Scott and Jackson?" Emily asks Allison next. She figured Scott and her would be attached at the hip now that school was out. And Jackson, though he hasn't been the most welcoming in the group, he's been all together better then the glares she receives from Derek.

"They're out doing a run. They'll be back here in a few minutes probably."

Emily doesn't ask her to clarify because just then Isaac comes and sits down next to her.

"Is everything okay?" She leans over and whispers.

"Just a bit of a disagreement we're having." He whispers back as Derek walks past them to the other side of the corner couch and sits down with a smack of his hand across Stiles' feet on his coffee table. Stiles mumbles something under his breath and Derek's lip twitch upward just slightly as Stiles pulls his feet down.

"It's not about me is it?"

Isaac opens his mouth but then freezes for a beat before replying. "No, he's just unhappy with me in general right now."

"Let's get to physics!" Allison cheers sarcastically as she dances her textbook around in front of her, her gaze on Isaac and Emily.

Two hours later, Stiles lets out a frustrated growl as he slams his textbook. "If I look at one more Latin word I swear my brain is going to explode…I need some milk," He throws his book on the couch behind him and climbs over Jackson, who has situated himself on the floor area closest to the flat screen TV Derek has.

"Who's hungry?" Boyd asks as he stands to his feet.

"You making dinner?" Scott asks from his spot on the floor next to Allison.

"I'm sure I can get something up." Boyd replies as he maneuvers his way around the limbs of his friends to get out of the living room area.

"Well then this means homework is officially over," Erica flips her notebook closed. "Jackson, you and me have a rematch. Danny, Scott, you're in on this too." She says as she heads over to the TV and begins messing with a gaming conceal.

"Stiles, you better be using your cup." Derek says, keeping his eyes on the giant, medieval book he's been reading since the teens started their homework and studying.

"I am!" Stiles shouts as Emily turns her attention over to the kitchen where Stiles is standing next to the refrigerator with an open gallon of milk in his hand. He goes to pull the open mouth to his lip when Derek stops him with, "It's on the top rack of the dishwasher."

Stiles gives him an open eyes, mocking look before slamming the container on the counter and whipping around to yank open the dishwasher's door.

"Isaac, you in?" Scott asks as he stands to his feet and takes a controller from Erica.

"I was actually hoping Emily would show me the pictures she took from the game Friday." He taps the back of his pen on his notebook and he looks out the side of his eye at

Emily.

"I want to see those too!" Allison explains as she pulls herself back onto the couch next to Emily.

"I have my memory stick, I can pull them up on a computer so you can see them easier if you want?" Emily semi-shrugs as she goes to lean forward but feels the pain in her stomach and pulls back.

"You can use mine." Danny says already standing up as he leans back behind him and grabs his laptop off the cushion.

"Thank you." Emily smiles as she's handed the device.

Allison gets the computer set up as Emily pulls her camera from her bag Isaac hands her and pops out her memory card. She slides it into her adapter and hands it over to Allison. Before they start clicking through the photos, Allison sits the computer on Emily's lap and let's her control the motion of the photos.

The two comment on almost every photo, cracking jokes about the subjects in them. Lydia looks over from her continuing in her homework and adds her thought on a few of them as well. It's all fun and games until the photo of the glare across Isaac's eyes while he's apologizing to the Coach comes up on the screen.

"Oh." Allison says softly.

"Yea, my camera was kind of weird that night towards the end of the game." Emily scratches at the back of her ear. "It happened again with Derek too," She clicks to the next photo of Derek. "There must be something wrong with the lens.

She sees the side look Isaac and Allison both give Derek as he shakes his head, but she can't tell if it was from the book, Isaac and Allison, or the fact that Scott and Danny were jumping around like kangaroos as they team up against Jackson and Erica on the game they were playing.

"Sheppard's Pie is ready. It has peas so I don't want to hear it." Boyd points a potato covered cooking spoon in the direction of the living room.

"Alright!" Stiles cheers as he claps Scott on the back of the shoulder from his spot of viewing the game and then darts towards the kitchen.

"If you're hungry we better get over there now. Boyd's Sheppard's pie is Stiles' favorite, and even though she won't admit it, Lydia will eat as many helpings as she can get." Isaac says, leaning over to Emily's left ear, a teasing nature in both his face and voice.

"At least I don't have Boyd make me an entire Alfredo Parmesan beef pizza." Lydia says under her breath but still loud enough for Isaac to hear as she walks quickly past them.

"It's so good." Isaac says as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out. "You'll see."

She bites her inner bottom lip and looks at his slightly calloused hand. To her, it was more then just a hand being offered to help her off the couch, it's trust – to Isaac, to his friends, to everything that she hasn't ever had in her life. She smiles slightly, her teeth still pressing into the skin as she lays her on his and allows herself to get pulled up.


End file.
